10 Things.....

...a girl can't do without:

1. Black nail-polish. 2. Red lipstick. 3. J Brand jeans. 4. White button-down. 5. Black jacket.  6. Mulberry bag. 7. SK II. 8. Blahnik pumps. 9. Moleskine notebook. 10. Fictional character to fall in love with. (Mine's Stacia Kane's 'Terrible' from the Downside Ghosts series.)

Stop already!

Tahereh Mafi has joined the long list of writers who are doing the unconscionable: Writing bloody trilogies and not ending the book that I'm bloody reading. What the hell. Laini Taylor, Becca Fitzpatrick, Jennifer Estep, Darynda Jones all write highly readable books but don't they realize that they are annoying the reader by blatantly writing for book contracts and not the satisfaction of the people who buy their books?
I want that sigh of contentment when I finish avidly reading a single story. If I like it I will buy your sequels (which shouldn't be plural, in any case, they should be standalone indulgences), never fear. But at least let me have a sense of closure in case I drop dead before the next installment is out.
Look at the incomparable JR Ward, Kresley Cole and Stacia Kane who all respect their readers and yet give us more and more of the characters we adore.
Mafi's "Shatter Me" is great reading - until I came to the end which turned out to be a comma and not a full stop. Maddening.

Fifty Shades of (Bleak) Grey

As a huge fan of paranormal romance, I'm no stranger to erotic fiction which is great fun. So when I first heard the buzz about EL James' Fifty Shades I sang a Hallelujah chorus as I tripped to the nearest laptop and downloaded merrily away. Alas. This is why my mother taught me never to look forward too much to anything because the resulting thud of disappointment can be quite jarring.

Who is this little novella meant for? Thirtysomething housewives standing next to the laundry line with a ciggy dangling out of their lipstick-smeared petulant mouths, a dissatisfied meatloaf in the oven and a screaming toddler flinging food from a highchair? If you think that's a cliched image out of the 50s, I'd like to know what you think of this teenage dream alive and kicking between the pages of a book.

The hero is flawed, the heroine a virgin and just to modernise the whole, James throws in some sex toys, aka TMI. In the old days of Mills&Boon (a staple for all virgins), the formula was just that, without the sex toys. I know people (read romance fiction readers) don't change and I shamefully admit that the M&B formula can still float my boat but not when it is so painfully, haha, written. James has ensured that even if you only have a clutch of 'O' levels to your name, you can easily follow her simplistic style because it seems to be written from the point of view of a 15-year-old. (Sarah Honenberger makes that work in Catcher, Caught. Here? Not so much.)

Christian Grey is a CEO of who-cares-what, he's tall, gorgeous and has haunted eyes – really, what woman would not jump into the man's bed – and Anastasia Steele is lovely, shy and never felt the need to be bedded until etc etc. But, aye, here's the rub, when Christian speaks he speaks 'phlegmatically', when he's turning Ana on she sighs 'Oh my' and you wouldn't be surprised if she was pausing for a cucumber sandwich or two, and I do not mean that as part of their sensual arsenal but in terms of what a simpering Victorian Miss might do.

He has to have some BDSM going on and does sinful things with whips when he's not using his hands - and she is learning to like it.

Fifty Shades has perhaps five nice lines but in terms of why it is popular – this is a mystery. I can get my kicks from Stacia Kane and JR Ward, the gods of paranormal/erotic fiction, and I can re-read their dialogue and lust after their characters without a second thought. With Fifty Shades I keep thinking 'Why, God, why' and once you start thinking...God help you. Great fiction just lets you feel. That clutch at the throat first, then you let it sink into your consciousness.

Then again, maybe I can guess why Fifty Shades has caught the public imagination. Working women everywhere with busy husbands, or no lovers at all, may have very vivid imaginations to make up for what they're not getting at home. Christian and Ana work on the obvious level, but James has added a clever touch: She's made them have normal family lives, siblings and best friends so it seems that much more realistic. As in: Maybe, just maybe, this could happen to you.

James has also understood the need most women have for that something extra in their personal lives, which is where the Dom/Sub element of the book comes in.

It's the same reason why I've stopped reading Mills&Boons and have switched to its more substantial big sister; and she doesn't always need to wield a whip. In fact, erotic fiction like Fifty Shades pales in comparison to paranormal erotic fiction for the simple reason that you hardly, if ever, meet human males who are even vaguely interesting, either in real or unreal life. But if you're having dinner with Zsadist of Ward's Black Dagger Brotherhood, with a scar slashing his face, his penchant for green apples and his tender, tender loving, hell could freeze over and you wouldn't notice. Of course hell will freeze over before you meet someone like him other than in the pages of a book, but you can't have everything.

Although these days, much as j'adore Ms Ward, my heart belongs to Terrible, Stacia Kane's incredible character from the Chess Putnam series who I keep beside my bed.

Just to remind myself of the standards I must hold.

I Belong to Terrible

This is really the time of the non-hero in the non-conventional sense. We're sick and tired of charming, suave, handsome men who are captains of industry – that whole scenario has been relegated to the shame cupboard that is known as the Cliche. Now, the man who twists our hearts until not a drop of air remains is....Terrible. Yes, the only dross about him is the name, but everything else is pure, solid gold.

Terrible is the believable hero of Stacia Kane's Downside books, the holy triumvirate aka Unholy Ghosts, Unholy Magic and City of Ghosts. There is another holy T, made up of our heroine Chess Putnam, junkie and witch, a pusher's top henchman Terrible, and Terrible's rival in love and war, Lex. Or as the incomparable JR Ward would have Chess say about Lex, the Chinese gang member who hops in and out of Chess' bed: “He's my lover...not the love of my life.”

Kane's world is shockingly attractive, God knows why. Chess is a product of abuse, as is Terrible, their lives are violent, they are part of an unpredictable underworld where the prospect of Tomorrow may be a dream, and yet you can't get enough. Kane's people are people you learn to like; for me, Terrible, I'm sorry to say, is my ideal man. He is smart, loyal, powerful, has a sense of humour, and has your back. When he falls in love, he falls all the way. The cherry on top of the chocolate fudge? He can hold a conversation – of course a man like this would have to be fictional.

But I admire Kane's imagination and the fact that she can make a love scene indelible. What more can you ask for as a reader, really?